I know what you're going through
by a-slightcatchoflightning
Summary: Lofty walks in on Dylan self-harming. (Written by request) I decided it would be easier to write this from the P.O.V of Dylan, so that's what I've done. TW: / self-harm, suicide attempt, hallucination I guess. I DO NOT PROMOTE SELF HARM IN ANY WAY (Warning: graphic)
Lofty grabs my attention and I look up from my clipboard with the girl's details on it. I can tell he's just asked me something and I know I heard it, but I don't know how to answer or what he said. It's like someone's forced a gag in my mouth or is clamping their hands over it, stopping me from answering and suddenly a feeling of complete hopelessness washes over me. I have no idea where this has come from but as I glance aside to the in the window, I stare straight through it to the storm outside. The wind whistles and howls as the rain batters the windows and then I am made aware of my reflection. A stranger. Why don't I recognise this person? Such a failure. Why am I such a failure?

I look back at lofty with his dark curls that flicker across his forehead, contrasting against creamy skin and the glassy green eyes with a smudge of coal grey hugging at the pupils and suddenly I snap back. "Hell-loo?" he says in a sing-songy voice, waving his hand in front of my face theatrically. "Do you want to go for pizza tonight or not?"

I begin to speak and my voice comes out hoarse. Looking away, I realise the sun is shining outside and a child with a dog on a leash is walking next to her mother, wearing a summer dress and a daisy chain around her neck. Her long blonde hair flickers in the cool breeze. My voice comes out a rough growl at first "Um" I cough, "Yes of course, pizza sounds, well, um good" I nod at him, hook the clipboard back to the end of the bed and pace out of cubicles and into the store cupboard.

Okay, that time it was bad. I've got to sort this out. I take the stepladder from the corner and get up onto the top step of it. "DYLAN!". I jump and look down to see Rita standing, looking up at me with her eyebrows knitted in a tight frown. "What on earth are you doing?" she pushes, her eyes forceful, as though she's reading me. "Just-just getting a syringe". She stares for a couple more seconds, nodded and shut the door behind her.

I reach up again and feel it. The wooden box with an engraving on top. I take it from the shelf. Sitting down on the stepladder, I open the box and remove the tissue paper to find 3 blades, lying along the red velvet lining.

I don't even feel. I select the largest one, hold it to my wrist and drag down deep. The rush, adrenaline and pain turn to endorphins that course through my veins and I'm back. Back on earth. I look down, happy with the feeling of control and suddenly there's a gasp. My gaze is cast upwards at Lofty, my beautiful Lofty standing staring at me with a look of horror and fear on his face. I look down at my wrist and realise. I've cut the vein. "Dylan sit still I'm going to help you, I know what's going on and I can help I promise, but you have to sit still and trust me okay?"

Suddenly I'm frightened and all I want is for him to hug me and this mass cloud of depression and self-hate to be blown away by the whirlwind that is my boyfriend.

He jumps back out into the corridor and shouts for Rita and Iain who come rushing in after him as he clamps a wad of gauze on my wrist. I blink into the deep green whirlpools and gaze at the sharp grey ring outlining his pupil and it slowly fades out, growing fuzzier and softening into a deep black that coats my vision until I'm pulled into a cloaked peacefulness, only to be described as an aching sleep that overwhelms every muscle in my body.

 ** _I am standing at the edge of a building and realise it is the ED, the same spot that Connie talked a man out of jumping from. Behind, there is a mass whirlwind of dark cloud and lightning and I hate myself so much. Everyone hates me and I'm so so useless, why else would all of those poor, innocent patients died at the hands of my shitty nursing? The whole world would be better without me. I point one foot over the edge and realise how empty it feels with nothing below it. Empty. Empty is good. Empty means no pain. Suddenly there is a cry behind me and I see the swirling cloud get bigger, pale ghostly images of the faces of all the people I have killed before. I place my foot back on the roof and take a step back, turning around full to look at the mess of all these pleading faces. I took their lives. I deserve to take my own. I fall to my knees, tears streaming down my face and Lofty comes running onto the roof, his eyes blazing in desperation. "Don't do this, stay with me, don't leave me" it gets quieter and quieter as the storm above gets louder, thunderous like a tornado of all the built up rage. I look at him and suddenly, I don't know him anymore. I have to do this to avenge all those I've ever let die. I take a step and jump._**

I jump awake as I hit the ground and look confusedly around me. What? I'm lying on a hospital bed in resus and Lofty, my beautiful Lofty is standing next to me, his forehead glistening with sweat and a look of panic and upset smattered across his face. I look up at him and my eyes focus more clearly. "Lofty" I croak and he holds a glass of water to my lips. I sip slowly and he begins to speak. "Dylan, this is all my fault", he looks down and my heart implodes with an intense passion. "None of this is your fault".

"It is" he presses "I knew about it all, but I didn't want to know, so I ignored it in the hope that it would stop", "but" I plead and he silences me with his hard stare. Eyes usually so full of sparkle, now dull with self-hatred and guilt. "I was looking for syringes and found the box with blades in. It has your initials engraved in the lid, Dylan. When you ran off, I asked Rita where you were and she said you were getting syringes."

"Please stay with me" I beg. I can hear my whiny pathetic voice and I know immediately that he's only stayed this long because he feels sorry for me, he doesn't love me at all.

"Of course I'm going to stay with you, you muppet", he sighs, running his hand through my sandy blonde hair irritatingly. I brush him off and he speaks again. "Will you go to therapy?" he asks. I begin to protest but he silences me once more, "I know what you're going through" he says softly, rolling up his sleeve gently to reveal a straight pink line running up the outside of his arm, growing purple where it crosses three individual veins. I gasp. He continues. "I know what you're going through and I have to tell you this: it doesn't solve anything."

I sigh and look down at the scars covering my arms. He taps my leg and I look back up at him "I'm behind you, we all are and I can come with you to therapy if you like". I stare at the beautiful creature that is my lofty, into his deep green eyes and remember the pain on his face in my dream. I don't want to see that ever again. I nod and he leans in. We kiss.


End file.
